How Loud Can You Yell
by Toomanybees
Summary: He wasn't the hero anymore. She knew that, this monster with the mask, this psychotic murderer, her husband. Sometimes, she thinks he never really was.
1. Chapter 1

How Loud Can You Yell?

Author's Note: Hello! This is my first story on FF, and I would like to thank everyone for taking the time to read it! Now the idea for the story was created by how curious I was with Jack's wife, who we know next to nothing about. So, I went ahead and built up a character for her, and then after that came a whole story, oops. I would be so thankful if you would take a little time to review and tel me what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not have any rights or clams to the Borderlands franchise, I only own the OC's I have created.

Prologue

She supposed that everyone probably should know the protocol on dying, but she knew it wouldn't have killed somebody to give her a pamphlet or, at least, a 2 minute slideshow.

Although, it wasn't like the woman had anyone to complain to at the moment. She couldn't quite figure out where she was, despite the knowledge of the fact that she was no longer with the living. She was stuck between wanting to call the place a waiting room for Heaven but also knew there was the fact that she could be at Hell's front porch just the same. It was a fifty/fifty chance either way, so the term 'Afterlife' would have to do.

She also thought that whoever changed the light bulbs in the Afterlife fucking sucked at their job, but then again, she guessed she could have just had her eyes closed. However, seeing as the woman couldn't feel anything at all and had no sense of balance (If she was perfectly honest, she didn't know if she was lying down or sitting up, maybe it was a cross between those two), her guesses didn't really count for anything. Maybe this was all an elaborate prank, set to make her freak out or cry, but the feeling in her gut said otherwise. She was no longer alive and she knew it. She supposed she should keep an open mind about her demise, though. Who knows, it might help with her spirit flow or some shit like that.

But for the life of her (Get it? It's funny because she's dead.), the woman could not remember a thing as to the events that lead up to her death or of her life entirely. The only thing she remembered was her name and she supposed that was enough for a decent conversation with an angel or demon, if she ever managed to find another creature in this darkness. Finley; not a terrible one, she mused, could have been worse. She could have been stuck with the name Charlie; so you know, not all bad, she thought.

And it wasn't like she couldn't recall everyday knowledge; just things about her own personal life were fuzzy. She could remember how many planets and solar systems there were, how many corporations there were and how many colors there were. She knew how to count, and knew that if you were to smart mouth a bandit, no matter how idiotic said bandit might be, you would find a bullet with your name on it lodged in your face. She could bring up pictures of sunsets and pink clouds, oceans that stretched so far that you couldn't see the end, trees that grew up to the stars and mountains of sand that towered off the ground. But despite remembering all of these things of the beautiful places she could bring up so clearly in her mind, she could never picture herself in any of them. Somehow, that hurt her.

Seeing as how there was no way of telling the time or finding out, Finley didn't know how long she had been here exactly. She figured it had probably been a while and that if she could make any sounds at all, she'd scream just to give her something to do instead of just floating (At least that's what she thinks she's doing right now) in the black nothingness.

Bored, Finley started to try and figure out how she died, and of course it didn't work but she did find that when she tried too hard to remember, she was left with no memories, an empty feeling and pain. And it wasn't the sissy pain like you got stung by a wasp, but more of the 'oh wow when I think about that it feels like a piano fell on my head and a bandit started playing Sonata No.2 in B flat Minor with said piano' kind of pain. Finley hoped at least she went out with a bang; the more she thought about it (And she had all the time in the world to think), the more she liked the idea of a big dramatic end.

The pain would stop when she stopped trying to remember. It didn't seem very fair, Finley thought bitterly, at the very least she should be granted with the knowledge of how she died, and who the hell she was. Finley could have been a narcissistic, psychopathic murderer for all she knew. She sincerely hoped that wasn't the case.

Seeing as how there wasn't much else to do, she supposed that waiting here wasn't that bad, but she wished that whatever was going on would kindly hurry up and let her be on her way (She didn't even care where she would go at that point, Heaven or Hell, it didn't matter); Finley didn't really fancy being stuck here forever, but more than that, she felt cheated. She didn't understand why she was here and it wasn't fair that she couldn't recall anything of herself. She thought that God and the Devil were being huge douches for holding out on her.

Deciding that she was fed up with the ear shattering silence and the unrelenting boredom, the woman (Now that she thought about it, she wasn't really sure she was a female, it just a feeling that she got. Hell [Get it? That's where she probably is heading next? Man, she was on _fire_ – Ha!], for all she knew, she could have been a skag or a cloud.), pushed aside the horrible piano feeling and started thinking about anything she could, her brain (That is to say if she even had one in her current state – she decided that she would just pretend that she had a body that was just paralyzed a while ago) diving deep trying to grasp on any information that she could find.

Hours seemed to go by as she pushed her mind, but then again, it was hard to have a sense of time when you were floating in an endless abyss. No matter how much Finley tried, nothing would take the bait for her to reel in. She tried it all; thinking, begging, threatening, offering, bartering, and even praying (She didn't know who to, but she knew it wasn't towards the horrible tour guides of Lucifer and God).

Finley had decided to give up; she didn't understand what the point of it was anyways anymore, why would she want to remember people or things that she would never see again? That was when a spark appeared in her brain, a name, and with that tiny spark brought a raging inferno. This one name, simple and plain, made everything stop (Which was really impressive given her certain situation).

Jack.

As the name popped up in her mind, she felt the confusing urge to break down like a little baby. Why was this name important? Why did it affect her like this, why did it make the piano feeling seem like a simple pinch on the leg compared to the pain that came with that name? No, if it was only pain, she could have handled it, but it wasn't just that. There were so many emotions that had appeared along with 'Jack' that she couldn't even begin to explain it.

Finley realized that she didn't plan this out all the way, and it seemed that all her efforts paid off. She wished she just would have waited for those assholes. Names and faces came out of nowhere, associated memories rushing back with them; she felt like crying, laughing, screaming, or really any emotion that she could get out.

Though, her mind always came back to the same name, as if it was the beginning of it all. She just couldn't tell if she hated it or loved it, her feelings were just so haywire at the moment.

Jack.

Just who in the hell was this asshole?


	2. Chapter 2

How Loud Can You Yell?

Edit: Alright, I was super unhappy with how this chapter turned out. So, I went back and edited most of the middle and ending! I'm sorry that this is not a new update but I'm a lot happier with this version of the chapter. I also thought that the interaction between Jack and Finley was a little too friendly, so i fixed that. Chapter Two will be out soon I promise! This is a one time thing, once chapters are posted, I will make sure everything is edited. Thank you so much for being patient with me.

Author's Note: Hello, hello, hello! Let me just say that this is a long chapter, yes, but I wanted to properly introduce Finley and for you to get a feel of what she like. I've become pretty attached to her and I would love to hear what people think of her! I want to thank **IC0** for reviewing, your comment absolutely made my day! And i also want to say thank you **IC0** and **RedSombrero** for Following my story :) I hope you enjoy! And reviews would be amazing to tell me how to improve my writing or just because you'd like to, thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not have any rights or claims to the Borderlands franchise, I only own the OC's I have created.

Chapter One

"That kid is a little asshole and I don't want you near him." Her mother repeated for the ump-teenth time. Finley couldn't help but think that her mother was being a little hypocritical, seeing how the woman herself was too, an asshole; however the little girl of ten years old would get slapped if she actually spoke her thoughts out loud.

Not wanting to hear the same excuse if she was to ask why again, Finley turned away from her mother and left her to dig in the dirt. The summer heat felt sticky on her skin as a gust of wind blew over dark skin, her face and her skag's face illuminated by Pandora's sun. She didn't really get why she had to come outside with her mother whenever she was working in the garden, because often (All the time), her mother didn't actually let her help her at all.

She and her mother lived on a quiet little plot of land outside of some town that she hadn't bother to learn the name of, and because of this, Finley didn't have many friends. Said little asshole was a boy that lived semi-close by her with his grandma. However, her mother had forbid her from playing with him. Finley swore that her mother wanted her daughter to die a friendless old lady. Not that the little girl would know how to act even _if_ she was granted permission to talk to another human being. Ever since she was small, she was never allowed to interact with anybody, except her faithful companion and guardian, Prince Alfred the Third (There was never a first or second, Finley just thought a name with no title or numbers was awfully boring. Once she was older, she would get her name legally changed to Knight Finley the Fifteenth, to serve Prince Alfred), but even then she had to beg and plead for him, for a friend.

Her mother gave in on her eighth birthday and brought his majesty back from a trip into town. He was such a tiny thing; hardly deserved such a royal title, but Finley saw something in him. Over two years he had grown worthy of his birthright and flourished into a wonderful king (Even if he did eat out of the garbage still), if Finley did say so herself. Oh, and the adventures they went on! As a knight, it was her job to protect the prince at all costs, and that meant accompanying the king on all his travels, and how she loved it so. The thrill of finding exotic places (Another part of the dry desert), strange creatures (Mostly the bugs on the ground), interesting plants (Different kind of cacti), and slaying huge beasts (Always imaginary). It was just the two of them, and it was likely to stay that way.

But today she just didn't have the spirit for adventure, the heat was starting to pound down on Finley's face and honestly she wanted to burn her shirt. Her mother always made sure that her clothing kept all of her skin covered up, no matter the season. Finley couldn't remember the last time shed seen her own arms (Which was a little stupid as she sees them while changing in the mornings). In her arms, Prince Alfred the Third panted to cool down from the almost unbearable heat. Finley, who was standing next to the smallest rock on the lot, whom she named Charlie (She had enough tripping over it and decided to give the rock the worst name she could think of), glanced at her mother who was humming a sweet tune to herself while trying to tend to her garden (Trying being the key word, can't grow much with sand, unless she grew sand vegetables- ew). The little girl decided that she would be tough and bear the heat; if she didn't, she would be stuck with nothing to do, bored out of her mind while her mother would move onto singing show tunes. Looking down at her companion, she opened her arms a bit and he gently plopped down on the ground. Running toward her house (Her mother yelling to not run in the damned house) with the prince hot at her heels. Dashing in the building, she headed for the fridge and grabbed two jars of water, set them on the counter and ran to her 'bedroom' (It was really just a mattress in the corner of the square room along with some of her most valued treasures) in search of her bag.

Finding the bag easily, she headed back to the jars with the Prince running around her excitedly. As soon as his majesty saw the jars, a spark of elation ran through the skag, his knight was taking them on an adventure! Finley grabbed the jars and hurriedly threw them into the bag; next to her map, pencil, and notebook. She also grabbed some snacks, and then double checked the contents in her bag before nodding to herself and the prince.

Running out the door and past her mother she called, "Ma, I'll be back before dark! Don't get eatin by a giant lizard! Love you!"

Her mother, not looking up from her work, nodded and called back, "Love you too baby doll, be back before dark! Find me a pair of sunglasses, will ya?"

Prince Alfred the Third joyously yipped back to his knight's mother.

They were off.

And off was west, so far that her house was merely a dot in the background of the sky. Finley took out her map and started to figure out their surroundings. 'Hmm,' she thought tapping her fingers not holding the map against her leg, which was a habit. "The broken tree is right there, and the broken glass is by the dead squirrel, Janet, with her husband Brad, the dead, well, I don't remember what he was, but may they rest in peace," The small girl looked at Brad again and grimaced, "Or pieces, I guess."

Alfred bowed to the loving dead couple, sweet pair they were.

Clapping once, Finley changed the subject, "Okay you highness, we have three options as usual; First," She held up her pointer finger, "we keep exploring the vast unknown and find the treasure to make us famous explorers,"

The prince wagged his, um; butt in response but Finley held up her hand to quiet him before he started. "Second, we could completely ignore my mother and go to town to see other people for a change."

At that, the ruler whined and the champion rolled her eyes, "You're still my main man, Al, I was just thinking how cool it'd be if there was a whole team of us, see?"

He stopped whining when he heard the reasoning, but still felt a little upset, even if he only got the gist of her words. He was smart but he wasn't that smart.

Going back to the options, Finley began to grin, "Third, we go to the Rock." And as soon as the words left her mouth, the monarch let out a happy growl. That settled it. The Rock they go.

Before the left Finley looked in the direction of the town and sighed wistfully.

The Rock wasn't actually a rock, if that much wasn't obvious. It was small pool filled with water albeit not the cleanest sure but it beat having heat stroke and that was good enough for them. Heading down the short path the lead to the pool, she grabbed the change of clothes she had stuffed in her bag before her mother had woken up. They weren't fancy, or an actual bathing suit, but instead a simple t shirt and jeans. Changing, Finley felt infinitely better as she no longer had the constricting articles of clothing wrapped around her arms and legs.

Alfred yipped happily and followed his knight to the pool. At the edge of it, sat a giant rock; Finley quickly climbed it and stared at the water. She could make out her reflection; short brown hair that curled at her chin, eyes of the same color to match, dark skin she couldn't see past her collarbone but knew that it covered her head to toe. Mother said she was pretty, and she thought so too; a boring pretty but pretty nonetheless. She turned her head to stare at the prince and saw him trying to catch a dragonfly. He was about to her calves' height wise with a face one would say only a mother could love, but Finley absolutely adored him. He had light brown skin like armor that always hurt a little when he tried to jump onto his knight's lap, his claws were getting sharper by each day; she would have to cut them soon. The spikes sticking out of him were something Finley couldn't really do anything to so she just had to be careful while playing with him. Lastly, on top his head sat a crown made of only the finest materials (Wood, wood, and more wood), glued to his head (She didn't think it would hurt him that much- hopefully).

He was her best friend, titles aside and they would do anything for each other. Looking back at her reflection, she smiled ad jumped. She landed with a splash which caused Alfred to quickly snap his head up. Forgetting the monstrous foe he was battling (The Dragonfly, who thought that the skag was being absolutely rude in making him late for his job- Martha will not be pleased with him), he ran towards the girl. Jumping about 4 feet from the pool, he landed perfectly in the water; well, almost perfect. As he made contact, the water around him landed straight on her face. The water was warm from exposure of the sun.

When he resurfaced, he looked at the knight and saw her wiping the water out of her eyes. The water was surprisingly deep for a pool, rising up to her chin. They always came here on days it'd seemed like the heat was going to melt them, but always under the guise of adventure to her mother. She'd ban her from exploring ever again if she knew about this place. She always told her daughter to stay away from town and places populated with people; if she saw another person, she was to come home immediately- no exceptions.

Laughing, Finley splashed the water right back at the skag's face, "Your majesty, you're looking a little under the 'water' these days,"

The prince growled back playfully. Thus the two sparred with water as their weapons and joy in their hearts. Sure it was just the two of them but it didn't matter much, they were a good team. Laughter and growls filled the air, one like bells and one like a cheese grater on metal, but they went together awfully well.

Then a snap broke any other sound that dared show its face.

Finley and Alfred froze in the water.

"Hello there," A gruff voice spoke taking the place of the ear-deafening snap. Finley's face turned from a joyous expression to one of terror. It doesn't make sense, she thought, nobody is ever here when we are- nobody. She turned her head slowly towards the man. The first thing she had noticed was his height; she knew that he was taller than her and that was from sight alone- and she didn't want to do a side by side comparison- and his dirty (She'd have called him filthy if she wasn't so polite), appearance marking his entire attire (Who needs adventuring when she could be a poet?). The second things she had noticed was the red mask covering his face, and the gun in his left hand.

Terrified, Finley slowly grabbed Alfred's paw (Who was quietly growling at the masked man) and pulled him towards her body. Slowly, she started to back away to the other edge of the pool. The masked man however noticed this and held up his hands, one hand holding the gun that was currently pointing to the sky and in the other, a flask, "Wait, wait kid. I'm not gonna hurt you; I'm just here for the water." She froze as the man spoke.

Finding her voice, Finley spoke shakily, "O-okay, we w-were just le-eaving, so-"

The man nodded and noticed the clothes on the floor; the hand holding the flask dropping the item on the floor to pick the garments and hold them up, "These yours, kid?"

Finley nodded, hands shaking in the water. Okay, she thought, just get out of the water, grab the clothes- don't bother changing- and run for it; simple. She then continued to the end of the pool; reaching it, she let go of the prince's paw and started to lift herself out of the water, all while still facing the man. The prince followed and quickly climbed out and stood protectively next to his knight; not bothering to shake the remaining water off of his body, he let out a warning growl directed to the stranger.

Noticing something yet again (His parents must be so proud) while the girl was lifting herself from the water, he spotted faint blue markings that entirely covered her left arm and leg. His eyebrows narrowed in confusion.

Was she..?

No, they were too rare, too valuable to be on this shithole of a planet…

But then again, the tattoo looking marks were oh so prominent against her dark skin.

The little girl had risen all the way and was currently standing by her pet. He'd have to make sure before he did anything; he didn't know if she was alone out here. Maybe the marks were only in his mind, his head dizzy with lack of hydration. He'd know for sure as she moved closer to him.

Finley's steps were cautious and stiff as the knight walked to him; wind gently caressing her body causing her to shiver. It unnerved her that she couldn't see his eyes as she gazed upon his mask which hid his expressions from her. Alfred still growling from her side, she forced herself to swallow the spit that had collected in her mouth even though her mouth felt like sandpaper. She willed her hands to stop shaking as she neared him; she was right, he was extremely taller than her small frame.

And as she got closer to him, he noticed the markings were no mirage. He looked for any sight of them being drawn on but then decided if that were true, the water would have washed them away. She was the real deal then. It was a shame; he really didn't enjoy hurting children but a man has to eat and this girl was going to make give him a fortune. He wondered how this was going to work, but he knew that he couldn't just ask her nicely to come with him; not with the way she's looking at him- like a startled animal.

So that left only one option, to take her by force.

He'd shoot the skag, the man planned inside of his mind, and when it was dead; he'd knock her out and take her whatever corporation would pay him the most. After all, Sirens were priceless; they would do anything to get their hands on one of them.

By this time, the man had started walking forward to the girl. He had pointed the gun to the floor sometime ago but as the distance closed, he raised the nose of the gun to point it at the skag.

Finley froze yet again. She looked at the man who once held her clothing out to her was now aiming a gun at her prince (To be fair, he had never said he wouldn't hurt her pet), the clothes now back on their original surface before he tampered with them. Her lips let a squeak of fear past, "Why?"

The man ignored her instead of answering; his voice steady as he asked his own question her, "How did you get those marks?"

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. The prince's growls were getting louder, and she moved to back away until the masked man pointed the gun at her, "Don't move."

Letting out a sob she stopped herself, a tear sliding down her cheek. No, no, this wasn't how today was supposed to go, no, no. The man then returned the gun back to Alfred, "Good, now answer me."

She stammered her reply, tears falling uncontrollably, "I-I've ha-ad them, I-I please d-don't, I, t-they've b-been there, p-please don't, since I-I was-s a baby, oh god please don't shoot us- please, please, please," The terrified knight repeated her last words like a broken record. She could barely make out his figure with her blurred vision; her knees felt like they would give out any minute. She wanted to throw herself between the gun and her knight but was too paralyzed with fear to move any part of her body. She felt shame at her fear; adventures had no fears, knights protected their royalty at all time and here she was breaking those two rules. What did that make her?

"Alright, that's all I wanted know."

Gasping, trying to breath in as much air as she could through her sobs to speak, her voice cracked as she pleaded, "Please don't hurt me, please, w-we just want to go home,"

His finger was on the trigger.

The prince, finally fed up with waiting for this man to harm his knight, leaped for the man, a scream escaping from his mouth.

"No!" Finley wailed.

The bullet fired.

She put of her hand.

The markings she's had ever since she was a baby glowed.

And it all stopped.

The Firefly ceased flying; the mucky water was still, its movements halted. The gentle wind quieted; the noise of the gun stopped. The bullet floating in the air, inches from the prince's face. Alfred's body frozen in mid air, ferocious looking; the sun stuck on Pandora's surface. Blue and the faint outline of gold painted the sky, unchanging.

Finley staring at her arm; the marks were glowing, a brilliant light blue.

The sound was out before she could stop it, a quiet scream. The marks whispered to her, and she could feel them pound against her mind, echoing without any sign of stopping.

She had to leave, get out of there, anything, she would do anything for them to stop their quiet song. They sang to her, told her to run, and told her to hurry.

She didn't really have a choice but to listen.

She reached for Alfred the Third and the abandoned clothes on the floor; carrying them both in one arm.

She grabbed the gun from the masked man.

And she ran.

It didn't matter what direction she just had to get away. Stopping by the pool, she threw the gun and began running again. The song and the whispers grew in sound until they evolved into chants and cries. Her mind felt like a battleground but she had no idea on whose war it truly was. Ten seconds passed and it was like somebody pressed play on the world and cut off all sound in her head. Finley heard the bullet colliding with the ground; the bandit's yell of confusion, but that didn't stop her. She heard the bandit curse and heavy footsteps followed soon after. Don't look back, she screamed in her mind, don't stop, don't look back, don't stop, don't, don't, please, she had to lose him, she had to get away, why was he doing this, she has to keep running, but she can barely see anything because she _can't stop crying, she can't lose him, she-_

Could she do it again?

Looking at her marks she focused on performing the same act as she had done previously. It would only last a few seconds but that's all she would need. She flew past the desert's nature and giant rocks.

"Goddammit, dammit, dammit- no, just stop!" The masked bandit cursed. He was about 15 feet from her and only dragging farther behind. She was very fast if she did say so herself and if she were to do whatever she had done again, she would be able to get away, no problem.

Prince Alfred the Third was whimpering in confusion, what was happening? One second he was protecting his friend and another he was being held in her arms, being jerked around as she ran.

And once again, the world was still when the little girl held out her hand. Halting, the knight turned around and listened.

He would find her. This would wear off and he would still be able to see her. She needed to do something else, she needed to stop, and she needed to calm down.

She turned her gaze to him. She could stop him. And with that Finley started walking towards the fowl beast disguised in red. She picked her sword (A rock) off of the dry floor and charged for the monster. She swung her sword and laid a mighty blow on the beast's head. His body crumbled below hers as she dropped her weapon. The beast had been slayed so to speak, and her mind was clear once again.

She stayed for a few seconds, to make sure he was knocked out. Then, satisfied with the man's state of consciousness, she fell to the ground shaking, tears welling up in her eyes. Why did this happen to me, She yelled in her mind, what makes me so special? It looked like he was just going to let her go before he saw the marks. She felt the tears, which seemed to never end, slide down her cheeks, the prince in her arms trying to comfort his knight without fully understanding what happened.

Finley looked around at her surroundings; the sun was no longer kissing the surface but instead a small outline of what was. She didn't recognize the area she was in at all and she had left her bag back at the pool. No map, no water, no food; just clothes.

She supposed that if they got to desperate they could eat the second pair of clothes.

She had been walking for two hours. It was dark, she was cold, her whole body hurt, she was hungry, and her feet hurt from walking. She felt like it would never end, she would be lost forever.

Five minutes later she found it; a small house next to an even smaller shed, finally.

Not having enough strength to run, Finley walked toward the shed, the prince still in her arms along with the clothes. He was sleeping peacefully, well, as peaceful as he could get, head on his knight's shoulder. Soon, she got to the shed, and she saw that no lights were on in either of them. Not that she was surprised; even she could tell that it was late into the night by just looking at the sky.

She knew that this was just another rule she was about to brake, but looking into the window of the shed, it looked all that much alluring. Deciding that she didn't want to freeze to death outside, she put all of the clothes and Alfred's weight on one hand and pulled on the shed's handle with the other.

Luckily, the door didn't have a lock on it so it was easy for her to slide inside. She saw a pile of tarps and decided that it looked like the softest bed she had ever seen. She sat the skag down on the floor; she changed into the warm clothes and then she laid down on the tarps.

She was out like a light.

Green and blue was the first thing she saw when morning came.

"What the hell?"

Jumping up from her makeshift bed, she stammered, groggy from sleeping and stared at the boy, unable to form proper sentences, "I-I-uh-I d-didn't-I mean-I'm s-sorry, I-"

The boy narrowed his bi-colored eyes with annoyance, "Spit it out, stupid. What the hell are you doing in my shed?" He was standing at the door way of the small shed, arms crossed as he looked at her. Light seeped in behind him but she was granted to warmth from it as she was blocked by his shadow.

At his words, Finley's mouth snapped closed. She felt a spark of anger at the boy for calling her stupid, but she didn't really have any room to complain at the insult- she _was_ trespassing.

What the hell, she was going to anyways.

Glaring at the boy, she spoke with only a slight stutter as she rambled, "What did you just call me? Look, the only reason I'm here was because I almost died last night. I w-was cold and hungry and I just wanted to go to sleep and this place was the first I had found in two hours and I know I'm trespassing but you don't have to yell at me, you big j-jerk."

The boy raised one eyebrow and looked from the girl to the skag sleeping on the floor of his grandmother's shed. Oh, she was gonna be pissed if she finds them here, the boy thought in his mind. It was his fault; he had forgotten to lock it the previous day.

Finley took the small amount of time to study the boy. His most startling feature was his eyes, one blue the other green; other than that he had brown hair, a shade lighter than her own and pale skin. He looked about her age, maybe a little older. She wondered if she was she near town?

"It's actually 'J-jack', sweetheart," He spoke mimicking her voice but adding a whiny tone to it, "and I don't really care if you died or not. Trespassing is illegal, you know? So why don't you just take your mutt and get the fuck out of my shed, 'kay princess?" He moved to the side of the doorway and gestured to outside with his arm. When the light stroked her face, Finley felt the heat instantly as she stared at 'Jack'. Was this the same Jack she had asked (Begged) her mother to let her play with? Was this the same Jack she'd imagined would be her and Alfred's new best friend?

Sadness mixed with the anger, was this how everyone acted? She really was going to end up a friendless old lady. Finley turned away from the boy to Alfred and knelt down to wake him up. As her left hand got closer to him, his eyes snapped open; as he jumped up one of the spikes caught her arm. It tore through her clothes and dug into her arm, her sleeve ripping as Alfred continued to move. At her cry of pain, the prince halted. Jack watched at the idiot hurt herself on the wild animal and sighed. He couldn't just kick her out now; he had to at least bandage her up.

While Finley tried to unattached herself from Alfred, she heard Jack sigh followed by footsteps. She looked back at the door when she was successful and saw that Jack was gone. God, was he going to just let her bleed here? Surely he wasn't that cruel? Alfred's whines brought her back; he was gently nudging her hurt arm as if to say sorry.

"It's alright, I forgive you," The prince still whined. Finley put her uninjured hand on his head and smiled, "Really your highness, I promise its okay."

"Your highness, really? What is he, the king of ugly?" A voice startled the little girl. Whipping her head back to him, her glare returned. The boy's hands held a jar of water, a cloth and bandages. "And let me guess, you're the queen."

"He's a prince! And I'm his loyal knight; I get to beat up jerks that make fun of him." Jack scoffed and stepped closer to the girl and her skag. The prince growled at him and got in position to attack before jack waved him off, "I'm not going to hurt her dum-dum- you've already done that."

Alfred stepped down at that and chose just to stay by his knight's side. Jack knelt down next to the girl, "Let me see your arm, oh so brave _knight."_ Finley gritted her teeth and thought about if she refused him. She'd have to travel back home with an open wound sure, but at least she'd have her pride; or she could swallow it and let this ass help her.

Choosing the option with less blood, she held out her arm to him. Jack took the water and gently took her arm with the other. "Fine,"

"Good choice sweethe-" Jack stopped his sentence to really look at the injury. Sure there was a bit of blood but that wasn't what made him pause (He sees blood whenever grandmother 'disciplines' him- which was a lot of the time, so he isn't squeamish by the sight of it); it was the faint light blue tattoos that ran up from her finger tips to the injury- possibly even farther.

"Where did you even get these? You're like, five." He questioned her as he still stared at the marks. Finley felt insulted, he didn't have to be so rude to her. Sure she trespassed but she was still a person with feelings; feelings that he was currently hurting. Not that she would ever tell him that.

He looked back at her face, "What? Did I hurt your feelings, you big baby?"

God, does he read minds?

"No, you didn't, it takes a lot more to hurt me," She lied, "And anyways, I'm 10, and I've always had them. Now are you going to help me or not?"

And as an afterthought, she added, "And my name is Finley, _Jack_."

Jack snorted, "I'm sure, darling. But whatever as soon as I'm done, you're gone, got that Shirley?"

"It's Finley!"

He rolled his eyes and began working on the hurt arm, "Whatever, same difference, _kid._ " He then pulled her sleeve up slowly, as to not irritate the wound even more; after, poured the water then wiped the injury with the towel to get most of the blood out. Finley watched him tend to her arm. He wasn't looking at her, concentrating on his work.

Feeling her anger fade, although some lingered at the 'kid' comment, she decided to be the bigger person and apologize, "I'm sorry for braking into your shed; I just needed someplace to stay. Even though it was unlocked and anybody could have-" Her words were cut off by a scoff.

Jack looked back up at her, a look of incredulity on his face, "Are you putting the blame on me while you're apologizing? That's double negative, sweetheart."

Embarrassed, Finley looked away, "It's Finley, and I… I'm sorry for that too."

Jack let out a small 'hmm' and spoke, "Don't worry about it."

A question popped into her mind after a few minutes of him trying to clean the injury, "How old are you, Jack?"

"Thirteen."

Three years older than her? Well, he seemed it, to be fair (Other than the name calling). "Do you have any friends?"

He looked up, "Why, you offering?"

"Yes I am, actually." She spoke

Jack snorts and shakes his head returning to his work, "No thanks, kid."

"Fine, it's not like I wanted to be your friend anyways." She lied. The next couple of moments were set with uncomfortable silence.

Jack, apparently too awkward, decided to break it with his next question. "I'm not sure why you'd want to be friends with me anyways."

"Well, I'm guessing you don't have any friends from how rude you are to me, and I don't have any friends either," Alfred nudged her side, "Except from Alfred, that it. So why not?"

"You said it yourself, I'm rude."

"Yeah, but I'm sure that's not all you are. People aren't just one thing, at least that's what my ma tells me." She stated looking at her cut. "People have different personalities with different emotions running through them. Meeting people and getting to know them is like going on adventures. And even though some people might think it's too tiring to go, you're lucky that I'm an explorer. But I guess that it doesn't matter, you already said no."

Jack, who was apparently suddenly okay with the silence, was quiet for the rest of the time while he bandaged her up. Finally, his task was complete, and he pulled back down her sleeve. Finley grinned at the bandage, goodbye blood! "Thanks Jack, it already feels better." She started to get off the floor, legs asleep from being the same position for so long. Alfred jumped up with her and waited patiently for his knight to lead them home. Finley turned and grabbed the wet clothes on the floor.

Surprising her, the boy's voice crept up on her, "Luckily for you I'm a hero." Jack said with slight narcissism laced in his voice.

Confused, Finley turned and asked, "Huh?"

Jack, who too got up from the floor- legs like jelly, shrugged and gestured outside. Finley walked with Alfred while Jack closed the door and locked it this time. "It's a little sad to not have any friends don't you think cupcake?"

She narrowed her eyes, "Your one to talk."

Jack rolled his eyes as he stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against the shed door, "Whatever, the point is, you have no friends except for ugly mutt and I can't just let someone go there whole life without a single friend. Plus, I don't really have anything better to do."

"Wow, sounds like a great deal, you get to laugh at me and I get insults twenty-four/seven." Finley spoke sarcastically.

Jack grinned, "I'm glad you see it my way, Ashley."

"It's Finley!"

"Whatever."

'Ashley' let out a dejected sigh, "I want to take back my invitation for you to be my friend."

"How do they say it in your language, 'No takesies backsies'? Yeah, that's it."

"Ugh!" She'd rather be friendless than this. She turned her back on Jack and started walking away from him; Alfred following happily.

"I'll see you later princess," Jack called out to her, "Try not to die until then!"

Whipping her head back to him, she saw his narcissistic grin and his bi-colored eyes gleam with amusement, "Who said I would be back, let alone even want to?"

"That would me, I mean, I just said it. You might need your ears cleaned, idiot."

"I think I hate you."

Jack winked in response.

"Bye kid," And with that, Jack heaved himself straight from the shed and turned to go inside.

Shaking her head, Finley continued walking. Since she now knew whose house this was, it would be easy to navigate her way back home. Grumbling under her breath, Finley stated, "God, that guy is such an asshole."

Jack hummed to himself as he walked into his house (It wasn't a home, never a home); a friend, huh? He's pretty sure he's never had one before and he didn't know how to feel about it now that he had one if he was being perfectly honest.

"Jack, where in the fuck were you?" Jack flinches when he hears the harsh voice of his grandmother. He'd hoped that Finley's blood was the only type he'd see today.

He wondered what disciplinary tool she'd use today.

He thought of his new friend, the girl with the strange tattoos.

He thought she might be crazy.

Who would want to be his _friend_?

Maybe she was just a lonely idiot.

"Jack!"

But the question remains, why would he want to be _her_ friend?

"Goddammit, I'm not going to say it again!"

Probably because he was a lonely idiot.


End file.
